I knew it.
Something was nagging me all day
that this was a day I was supposed to remember
but I couldn’t put it together.
I knew it wasn’t your birthday
– or mine,
nor one of the big events
but there are so many small things
that we used to celebrate.
And now…

I figured it out.
I did.
I know where I went wrong
but really
wasn’t it just
that I made too much
of those events
so long ago?
Shouldn’t we treat every day as something special
rather than elevating certain occasions
to those of highest importance?

I love you.
You know this.
I suspect it’s reciprocal.
Can’t we simply treasure that
day in, day out
rather than spend such seconds celebrating
the first time we kissed
or dated
or fucked
or –
it was the last?
I got it?

Happy anniversary, darling!